Stagnant Chaos
by Tertiary Genesis
Summary: Sequel to Lockdown - Time can make anything grow stale, and stillness can make anyone go insane. What happens when you're locked away with no key? ... Established Relationship - Tryan TroyxRyan - Slash
1. Hospitals

_This story is dedicated to two of the best people I know, __**Cryaesion**__ and __**tryanforever91**__. You guys have been my rock and some of the best things to come out of joining . It has been an awesome six months knowing you guys, and I hope to continue knowing you for much longer. __**Cryaesion**__ beta'd the initial plot, whilst __**tryanforever91**__ beta'd my draft. He has not seen this final copy yet, so blame all mistakes on me._

_This story is the sequel to __Lockdown__. People can consider it a story on its own with Troy and Ryan having a pre-established relationship, but refers to events in __Lockdown__. The epilogue of Lockdown serves as a prologue for __Stagnant Chaos__ and it is my recommendation that you read that you at least read that first, if not all of __Lockdown__. You can find the story on my profile page._

_This story is of the slash variety. It contains relations between two males and may contain some mild coarse language. If any of this offends, then I recommend against reading._

_**The full disclaimer is at the bottom.**_

* * *

**Stagnant Chaos by Tertiary Genesis**

Chapter 1: **Hospitals**

**--XxXxX--**

Hospitals can be so off-putting. Most would say it is the sterility of the environment. Others would say that it is because there is so much illness and disease in the air. Hospitals tend to have a negative connotation attached to them. They seem to extract the happiness out of a person. When you find yourself in a hospital, it usually is not a good thing, and if you ever come across the elusive pocket of happiness from a family who has received tremendous news, you can always walk a few meters in any direction and pop that happy bubble with the words "passed away."

Death and misery constantly occupy hospitals, yet light pastel colors decorate their walls, as if in an attempt to negate the depressing effects of the building. The white wash on concrete walls mixed with the hushed tones and general quiet of the place gives an eerie ghostly sense, as if you are already dead even though you are not even a patient. Hospitals have never really been a good place.

Ryan Evans found himself in a waiting room of one of these unpleasant facilities. It had white fluorescent lights on the ceiling. One was flickering down some corridor. Ryan could not see the flickering light, but knew it was there because of how one of the walls seemed to flicker brighter, then darker. He could even _hear_ it flicker from his seat.

The blond was sitting in one of the plastic chairs lining the walls and running across the room. This room had linoleum flooring that was light blue with some black specks. Ryan could see the scuff marks left by wheel chairs and wheeled beds. It was clear that the room had seen many people go through. Ryan was just another person the room was going to see go through.

"_Is Cameron going to be all right, mommy?"_

Ryan heard a little boy talking to his mother somewhere at the corner of their waiting room. The boy could not have been much older than four years of age and was sitting on his mother's lap. The mother was visibly trying to keep it together for her son but you could tell she was at the threshold of an emotional breakdown.

"I want him to be all right because he is my big brother," the boy simply stated before returning to playing with his action figures.

The mother just nodded to her son, pulled him closer to her body and held him in a loose embrace as she continued to stare out into space.

A nurse at the counter called a name, and the mother got up and led her son over to the blue counter top. The nurse and mother had a conversation as the boy tried his hardest to see over the counter, jumping up and down, asking his mother to pick him up. His pleas seemed ignored. The nurse handed the older woman some forms to sign. She did not look like she was told good news but she did not appear to have received bad news either.

Ryan found it easier to immerse himself in other people's lives rather than stewing in the juices of his own. He could not cope with the reality of what was happening to him at that moment, so he chose to examine someone else's. Pity, his life did not have the patience to wait around.

Jack Bolton entered the waiting room through a swinging door. He looked like he was expecting someone, and in a great deal of stress.

Ryan approached the man tentatively. "Is he alright? Could I go see him?"

The Wildcats coach gave him a blank expression before replying. "No, Ryan," he said simply. There was a barely detectable trace of anger in his voice. Most would not notice it at all, but it was there.

**--**

_The paramedics and police had arrived well before the cancellation of the Lockdown Protocol. Ryan could see the flashing lights and could hear the sirens of the emergency response. There was probably both police and ambulances present because Ryan could hear two distinct sirens. He ran to the door, franticly trying to get it open._

"_What's the code?" Ryan screamed at the teacher who merely cowered with fear. _

_The blond gave up on the educator and returned to the door. He tried to recall the "master" code. He and Troy had memorized this code so that they could sneak out of wherever they were during a Lockdown drill, but the adrenaline rushing through his body was confusing his mind._

_Ryan tried several codes before his forth attempt proved successful. He ran through the school and out the front door. In the designated emergency vehicle parking space, he could see a stretcher being loaded into the back of an ambulance. He ran over, fearing the worst as to the identity of the injured being. _

_As Ryan ran, he passed a police officer placing one of his peers, Blake, into the back seat of the nearest police cruiser. Another police officer was carrying a bloody baseball bat in an evidence bag._

"_The faggot deserved it!" screamed the homophobic assailant. This only served to heighten Ryan's fears._

_Ryan neared the ambulance and saw that it was Troy on the stretcher._

"_Troy!" Ryan quickly ran over and saw his boyfriend in bad shape. There were bloody gauzes plastered all over his head, but it was unmistakably Troy. Troy's father was nearby talking to a paramedic as Troy's stretcher rolled into the back of the ambulance. Coach Bolton went to board the ambulance as well. Ryan ran up to him._

"_Can I ride with him too?"_

"_No, Ryan," he said simply. There was a barely detectable trace of anger in his voice. Most would not notice it at all, but it was there._

**--**

Lucille Bolton appeared in the waiting room. She ran up to her husband and enquired about their son, to which she received a noncommittal shake of the head. She brought her hand to her face and released a sob. Ryan's presence had barely registered.

Ryan attempted to procure more information about his injured boyfriend but an enraged mother knocked him back.

"How could you even show your face to me? You're the one who did this to him!" Mrs. Bolton screamed at the teen, not caring that the entire waiting room could hear.

"But it wasn't me. It was Blake; he was the one with the bat," Ryan attempted.

"But _you_ were the one who turned him gay. _You_ turned him into a target. This is all _your_ fault, you damn fag!"

Ryan, taken aback, retreated away from the couple, who held each other in a tight embrace. It was times like these that Troy would hold him close. He could not have that comfort anymore.

"Just leave, Ryan."

**--XxXxX--**

"_**This time, this place; misused, mistakes. Too long, too late; who was I to make you wait..."**_

Ryan played the Nickelback album Troy had gotten him when they went to see the concert. The day after their three-month anniversary, Ryan was hoping to wake up in Troy's bed, or at least with Troy beside him, but instead he woke to post-grunge melody of the Canadian rock band.

Ryan was usually a morning person, but that morning, Ryan felt so alone. He could not even feel whether Troy was still alive or not. It was as if that last Lockdown severed the connection between them.

"_**Just one chance, just one breath, just in case there's just one left..."**_

Ryan remained in bed, finding himself dreaming of one of the last dates he and Troy shared.

**--**

_It was just a little over two weeks previous. Nickelback came to Albuquerque on their "All the Right Reasons" tour, and Troy managed to score some tickets. Ryan had told him that he could have gotten the tickets through some of his father's connections, and saved Troy from having to camp out in a queue for two days, but Troy wanted to get these tickets himself._

"_Your dad doesn't even like us going out," Troy pointed out as they strolled through urban Albuquerque, on their way to their destination._

"_Sure he does," countered Ryan._

"_Not from what you've told me," Troy said, as he gently lead his boyfriend around a corner with a light hand on the small of his back._

_The sun was just setting, turning the sky a beautiful magenta, as the street lamps flickered to life. Waiters and servers from the cafés and restaurants lining the side street bustled around in their various monochromatic uniforms._

"_Aww, he'll come around," Ryan assured his partner, as he was lead into a small but quaint bistro._

_Troy had not only gotten the tickets for the concert, but he had also treated Ryan to dinner before the show at a nearby restaurant._

"_You are really going all out for today, aren't you?"_

"_Well, we have been together for seventy-six days. I think that is cause for a special date, don't you?"_

"_Seventy-six days? Troy, that's not even a round number"_

_Troy chuckled at this response. "Well, as corny as it sounds, I think everyday I spend with you should be a special occasion"_

_Troy could be so cute sometimes. Ryan just smiled at his boyfriend and raised a glass. "To seventy-six days"_

"_To seventy-six days," Troy repeated, "and plenty more."_

_The two boys finished their meal then headed towards the Albuquerque Arena where the concert was going to occur. Troy had opted for unreserved floor tickets over sitting in the stands because no body should be sitting anyway at a rock concert._

_The moment Nickelback came onto the stage, the mass sitting on the floor rushed forward to get as close as possible to the stage. Nickelback rocked out while Troy and Ryan "moshed" in the pit. Troy did not expect Ryan to have as much fun as he did, and so had only then discovered his boyfriend was a closet grunge fan._

"_I had no clue you were into rock. In these last seventy-six days, you never thought of telling me this?"_

"_I like to make things a surprise."_

_The two belted out the lyrics to "Someday", "How You Remind Me", "Photograph" and "Saving Me" then one of their favorite songs came on._

"_**This time, this place; misused, mistakes. Too long, too late; who was I to make you wait..."**_

_Troy turned to face Ryan. The blond stopped singing mid lyric, after noticing his boyfriend facing him._

"_What is it Troy?"_

"_**'Cause you know, you know, you know…"**_

"_I love you," Troy said, looking right into Ryan's eyes._

"_**I have loved you all along…"**_

_Ryan could tell Troy was not just reciting lyrics but also truly saying the words to him. It had taken him seventy-six days to work up to saying those words, but Ryan knew it was worth it._

"_I love you too," Ryan responded and drew his boyfriend in for a kiss._

_The song continued forgotten, and ignored was the mass of bodies swaying to the melody around them. Ryan and Troy fell into a world of their own, consumed by the strength of their emotions._

**--**

"_**I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go; stop breathing if I don't see you anymore…"**_

Sharpay entered Ryan's room, brining him out of his nostalgic trance. She did not say anything, but just sat on the bed next to her brother.

"They're not going to tell me what's wrong with him, Shar," he expressed his concerns.

"Then just go find out for yourself, Ryan," suggested the blonde.

"How?"

"I am sure you will find a way."

**--XxXxX--**

The Boltons sat inside the office of Doctor Ramira, the head neurosurgeon of Lovelace Medical Center. The doctor was discussing their son's condition with them. She did not give any indication of optimism in her tone of voice.

"_He has suffered a traumatic subdural hematoma with motor sensory complications due to the blunt trauma to his skull."_

"What does that mean?" Ryan heard Jack Bolton ask the Doctor. Ryan was sitting on the floor outside the door. The corridor appeared empty and devoid of any potential disturbances. Ryan was certain he would not be disturbed as he eavesdropped on Troy's diagnosis. He even internally reciprocated Jack's question, unable to understand why doctors do not just speak laymen to save them from having to explain it anyway.

"_It means that the injury to Troy's head has caused some bleeding in his brain. The fractured skull was repaired in ICU but he has a blood clot in his brain. So far, it is still small. We will do regular CT scans and MRI scans to keep the clot in check."_

Ryan found himself trying to recall what those abbreviations meant. ICU meant Intensive Care Unit, easy. He knew that the "M" in "MRI" meant something to do with magnets, and CT scans usually looked at the brain, but that was pretty much the extent of his knowledge. He made a mental note to watch those medical shows more, so that he could understand some of the jargon he was overhearing.

"_At the present size of the clot, his body should heal itself naturally, but if the clot gets bigger, we will have to perform a craniotomy, which can lead to other complications. We have put him in a medically induced comatose state to aid his body in the healing process."_

Ryan could hear the sighs of relief let out by his boyfriend's parents. Troy was still alive, and it sounded like he would be getting better. This was all good news. 'Comatose'? That was the long word for a 'coma', right? Ryan abruptly abandoned his contemplations when he heard Mr. Bolton speak up again.

"_What were these 'motor sensory complications' you mentioned earlier?" the coach asked._

"_Well, the location of the clot could lead to some lasting complications."_

The blond's attention perked at the mention of 'lasting complications'. That did not sound good to him.

"_The clot places pressure on some key parts of the brain. Where it is in the midbrain, the clot puts pressure on the cerebellum and hippocampus."_

The medical jargon had returned, and if Ryan were any less anxious for the well-being of his boyfriend, he probably would have groaned loudly, revealing his location to the occupants of the room. It seemed that the Boltons had a similar reaction because the explanation followed.

"_The midbrain concerns relaying sensory messages to the brain, the cerebellum controls movement and the hippocampus deals with memory. If any of these are affected, it could lead to some loss of brain function, but nothing major. He may have to undergo some physical therapy though…"_

"What are you doing here?" whispered a hospital volunteer who was passing through the corridor.

The sudden presence of another person startled Ryan. He looked up at the other being from his position on the floor and saw a girl, about his age, in one of those "candy stripe" uniforms.

"You know you're not supposed to be here right?" she asked, continuing to whisper. She had a slightly tanned complexion and long, dark brown hair. She appeared sympathetic and looked between the door and the blond boy sitting by it.

"My… friend's parents are in there. He was hit in the head with a bat," Ryan stated simply.

The girl knelt down beside him. "I'm sorry. I'm sure he is going to be okay," she tried to reassure him.

"The doctor seems to think so," Ryan said.

"Well, there you go. Dr. Ramira is one of the best neurosurgeons in the country. If she says he is going to be all right, then he will be all right." She gave Ryan her best smile in an attempt to cheer him up, an attempt that appeared to have worked.

"Yeah, I guess you are right."

"I know I am," she said with confidence. "I suggest you go now, before they find you eavesdropping. You could get in a lot of trouble for that."

"Okay," Ryan agreed and got up to leave, but then turned to face the girl once more.

"I'm Ryan, by the way." He held out his hand after introducing himself.

"Alexis," she replied taking the hand. She squeezed the hand and offered a smile, which appeared reciprocated.

Ryan released her hand and left, feeling a little better knowing that Troy would get better.

**--XxXxX--**

"Ryan, you haven't been to see Troy lately. Is everything alright?" Vance Evans queried his son at the dinner table.

Already ornately decorated in preparation for the annual Evans Christmas ball, the dining hall had glittering purple tassels on just about everything. Purple silken cloths hung from the walls and lined the table. The Evanses were following the trend of purple as the new Christmas color.

"Everything is fine, dad," Ryan put forward.

"Oh, so what is Troy's condition?" enquired the elder Evans.

"He is getting better," Ryan simply stated, not giving any more information.

"That's good," said Vance, out of politeness.

The family meal fell to a pregnant silence. The four Evans' sat on one end of the long table. Vance sat at the head of the table, with his wife on his left and his son on his right.

Although she was really supposed to sit beside her mother, Sharpay usually sat beside her brother instead. She did not do it in spite of the woman, but for the general sense that her brother could really use the company more. For a while, Sharpay had sat on the other side of the table, beside her mother, since Ryan would regularly have Troy over for dinner, but she knew that it was again a time of need for her brother.

"So why _haven't_ you been going to visit him?" asked Ryan's father, a hint of hope in his voice.

"His parents don't want me there," Ryan replied, attempting to hide his misery, though some bled through his façade.

"Ahhh," gave Vance Evans in understanding.

Ryan had only come out to his parent's the previous month. Troy had been working him up to it, and had promised to be with him no matter what happened. Ryan did not think his parents would mind at all. He was sure his parents already had their suspicions and were just waiting for their son to give them confirmation.

Ryan had been right in his mother's case, and she embraced him after he had told her. He wanted to tell both of his parents at the same time, but could not, so he just told them one by one.

Although his mother accepted him, his father was a different story.

**--**

"_We're here!" Vance Evans announced, as he did with every family outing, when the boys arrived at the batting cages._

"_Okay," Ryan said absentmindedly, in place of his usual 'I know'. _

_While the male Evanses were making their way to the batting cages, Ryan was considering his mom's advice about coming out to his father. It would be a huge load off his chest if he could be completely honest with his father. He had never lied to his father before, and even since the beginning of his relationship with Troy, he still had not 'lied' to his father, but rather omitted some major truths. It would be nice to be able to be himself with his entire family, rather than having to watch what he said._

_Vance could see that something was troubling his son, but chose not to push it, hiring out a cage for the afternoon, and collecting some baseballs from the vendor._

_After they had hit a few balls, both commenting on each other's batting techniques, they decided to go for an ice cream break. Even at seventeen, you can never be too old for ice cream._

_The two men were walking back towards their batting cage, when Vance noticed another two men and decided to comment on it._

"_They are really asking for it," Vance simply said._

_Ryan tried to follow his father's gaze, to see what he was talking about, but only saw two guys eating ice creams as well._

"_What?" Ryan asked, thoroughly confused._

_Ryan's father looked at him, also perplexed as to what his son was confused about._

"_What did you mean by 'they are really asking for it'?" Ryan elucidated._

"_Well, if they are going to be together, they shouldn't do it out here in public," Vance clarified._

_Ryan looked back at the two men eating ice creams and noticed their handholding._

"_Why not?" Ryan asked._

_It was then that Ryan realized what he was defending tried take back his question but knew it was too late. His father did not look at him weirdly, but Ryan remained on edge._

"_Do you remember that time when you were twelve?" Vance asked his son as they sat on the bench outside their batting cage._

_Ryan did remember that incident, even though he attempts to forget; his father had called gay people 'freaks' and said that the bashing was 'deserved'. It was a memory Ryan tried to suppress. _

_Noticing that his son did know what he was talking about, Vance continued, "yes, well, if they are going to be gay, they should at least keep it to themselves, instead of being gay where the gay bashers could see them."_

"_Yeah…" Ryan agreed distractedly. _

"_I am telling you, people are becoming more reckless these days," Vance remarked. He was not homophobic. Times were changing and he knew how to adjust. Vance had long since learned to tolerate gay people and their, unconventional lifestyle, but still resented them for their hypocrisy. For a group of people wanting equality, they sure liked to publicize their uniqueness with obscene public displays and Mardi Gras and what not. _

_Ryan had a different set of thoughts running through his mind. His father had already brought up the topic. It was his perfect opportunity to make a slip and come out. "_Here is your chance"_, Ryan thought, "_Take it!"_ He continued to contemplate how he would come out to his father, deciding on a simple slip his father can approach him about._

"_That is true. When Troy and I go out, we try to keep it discreet," Ryan said, though quietly._

"_Huh?" Vance Evans had entered the batting cage while his son was in thought and did not hear his son's remark due to the loudness of the pitching machine ejecting a ball for him to bat. _

"_Dad, I need to talk to you." Ryan requested._

_Vance Evans almost knew what his son needed to talk about. He was a smart man and judging by their line of conversation, he almost feared his son's intended topic of conversation, but told himself to not jump to conclusions. It was a rule in corporate business to not make assumptions, and Vance was not about to break a rule that was his lifestyle. Maybe, he was connecting the wrong dots and producing the wrong picture. Ryan could want to talk about something different. He turned off the machine used to hurl balls and the cages occupant, put down the bat and went outside to his son._

"_So, what do you want to talk about?" Vance asked, sitting on the bench beside his son._

"_You love me, right?" Ryan asked without a preamble._

"_Yes, of course son, I love you." The brash question had surprised the elder Evans, but after almost two decades of parenting, he knew the required automatic response._

"_No matter what?" Ryan asked, somewhat nervous._

"_No matter what," Vance confirmed with a smile._

_Ryan looked around. There was no one in the adjacent batting cages, or in their immediate vicinity. It appeared that is was not really a morning for batting, for most. He looked back at his father and psyched himself into doing what needed to be done._

"_Dad, I think I'm gay," Ryan said, then immediately recoiled as if he had released an explosive._

_Vance stared at his son, perplexed. He knew what he heard, but he was not prepared to receive it. He went through his regular motions when he received unbelievable news. Ryan had not appeared to be making a joke. There was no previous indication that this 'news' was even a possibility, at least in his eyes. Had he missed something? He analyzed his son's words to make sure there was no ambiguity he may have missed, and realized that Ryan had used the word 'think'._

"_You 'think'?" Vance asked, voicing his internal question while in mid thought._

"_Well," Ryan started, "I don't know. It is just all so confusing to me."_

"Confusing? That is good. Maybe things are still all right"_, Vance thought. He was not ready to accept his son was gay. He had so many plans for that boy of his, and this would make a major dent in these campaigns. "Well, maybe it is just a phase," Vance offered._

_Ryan considered this for a moment. He had had fleeting notions that he was just going through a phase during the past two months, but they never came to fruition. He knew he wanted to be with Troy forever. That cannot be just a phase. _

"_I don't think so," Ryan answered, though uncertainty laced his voice._

"_Are you sure?" Vance asked, trying to pick at the fraying stitch his son revealed to him._

_Ryan nodded with more confidence and certainty than his previous response. Within his mind, we was fact checking, collecting and arranging data so he could answer any question his father gave him._

"_How many… umm… how many guys… have you been attracted to?" Vance managed to get out. He was attempting to gauge the damage and see if things are reversible._

_Ryan thought before answering. The answer was quite clear but Ryan wanted to make sure, before he gave his answer, "One."_

"_One? If you've only been attracted to one guy, are you sure you're gay?" Vance asked, some of his previous concerns flying away._

"_Well, yes. But I have very strong feelings for this guy," Ryan explicated._

_Vance was feeling a lot happier than he had moments before. Things did not appear as bad as they seemed. _

"_How long?" he asked, continuing with his damage assessment._

"_How long what?"_

"_How long have you been attracted to this guy?" Vance expounded._

"_Two months," Ryan answered._

_Things were just getting better and better in Vance's mind. "Only two months?"_

_Ryan could see visible happiness in his father's voice and face, but was unsure about why. Ryan took it as a sign that his father was accepting him. "Well, that's when Troy and I started dating," Ryan offered._

"_Okay," Vance said before realizing what his son had just told him. "Wait, _Troy_?"_

"_Yeah, he is my boyfriend."_

"_As in Troy _Bolton_?"_

"_Yes," Ryan answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world._

_Vance's smile seemed to have been extinguished, and replaced with utter confusion, something Ryan noticed._

"_Dad? You said you would love me no matter what, remember?" Ryan reminded him, insecurity creeping back into his façade._

"_Of course I love you so-… Ryan. I just need time to think," Vance said, stopping himself from calling Ryan his son. Although things seemed repairable, Vance knew that his son could never be the same. They left the cages and went back to the car in silence._

_Ryan caught noticed his father's reluctance at using the word son. He decided he would let his father have the rest of that day to think, then approach him the next day._

_Vance had left on a 'business trip' before Ryan could talk to him. Their relationship thereafter was shaky at best._

**--**

Ryan decided to go see his boyfriend the next day. It was only the day after the incident, but he wanted to be there for Troy, whenever he woke up. He was going to stand by his boyfriend, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

**--XxXxX--**

Ryan stood outside room 417 clutching a bouquet of peonies. He knew Troy was not very into flowers, but Ryan liked them, and peonies were one of his favorites. They symbolized life, happy marriage and even gay life. More fitting to the situation, they also represented healing and so seemed quite appropriate.

"_I don't know how much longer we are going to be able to keep this up."_

Ryan could hear Troy's parents talking inside his boyfriend's room. The door had a narrow glass window on it, and Ryan chanced a glance as to the contents of the room. He could not see Troy from his position because he was trying to keep out of sight. With his limited view, he could see a stack of luggage in one corner of the room.

"_We cannot live in Troy's hospital room forever."_

Ryan heard the voice of Jack Bolton. He sounded concerned. He was probably sitting with his wife, who would be holding Troy's hand.

"_Maybe you could go talk to the bank, and ask for a loan?"_

"_Luce, the bank took the house already. We had to give everything up just to pay for the Emergency room, and the initial operations and scans they are doing to Troy. All the money we have left in savings is all that is keeping him here. This 'medically induced coma' and all that other stuff they keep doing to him to keep him alive has eaten into most of our savings already. We won't be able to continue much longer like this."_

"_So what are you saying? That we should pull the plug? How can you put a price on our son's life?"_

"_I'm not putting a price on our son's life. I am just saying that sooner or later we would be bankrupt, regardless of the price."_

"_I hope he pulls through before then."_

"_He would have to pull through within the next two days then."_

"_What? We can only afford two more days?"_

Ryan entered the room slowly, slipping quietly through the door, but they noticed his entrance nonetheless.

"What are you doing here? Get out!" came the screech from the tear soaked face of Lucille Bolton.

Ryan did not retreat out of the room, but remained at his post by the door, flowers in hand.

"I came to give these to Troy -…" Ryan started.

"I said, GET OUT!" screamed the female Bolton, who had gotten up from her seat beside her son.

Ryan had suddenly noticed Troy's presence in the room. He had surprised himself, not having looked for Troy the moment he entered the room. Mrs. Bolton's screech had startled him too much.

Troy just looked as he did when he slept, except for the bandages around his head, and the various wires and tubes spreading out from his person. He seemed as serene as the first time Ryan saw Troy asleep. Ryan thought a sleeping Troy was one of the most beautiful sights in the world.

"Get out," Lucille gritted out. She made her way to be next to the blond, and managed to maintain an 'inside voice', as she told Ryan to vacate the room.

Ryan did not want to leave. He did not want to leave, and was not going to be made to.

"Get out, please?" tried the female Bolton. She appeared to be pleading.

"I can pay for all of Troy's hospital fees," Ryan plainly stated.

Lucille Bolton looked surprised by the unexpected response from the blond.

"You can also stay at my house until you work things out," added the boy.

"Why would we want to stay at your house, you -…?"

Jack had rushed around Troy's bed to stop his wife. "We appreciate the offer and would like to take you up on that, thank you," Mr. Bolton told the blond. He dragged his wife to the other side of the room where she argued with him in a not-so-hushed tone.

"_Why are you even listening to this kid?" Lucille asked her husband harshly. In her mind, Ryan was not worth even a first glance._

"_Luce, he has offered to pay the hospital to keep Troy," Jack reasoned._

"_So," Lucille countered, "we can take care of our own son."_

"_No we can't. If we don't accept this offer, Troy might not make it," Jack said, impressing the reality of the situation upon his wife._

"_Okay," Lucille conceded, "but I am not staying at that faggot's house."_

"_They are going to kick us out of this room sooner or later."_

_The female Bolton racked her brain, looking for an alternate solution, realizing that her husband was right, and that they could not stay in their son's hospital room forever. She was determined to find different accommodations, being strongly against staying at the house of her very own Devil incarnate. "We can stay with my sister," she finally offered, remembering her only relative living in New Mexico._

"_The one in Santa Fe?" Jack asked, confirming the sister-in-law his wife was proposing, "It would take us hours to get back here. Do you want to be hours from your son?"_

"_No, but…"_

Ryan stopped listening to the bickering couple, in favor of focusing on his boyfriend. Troy had bandages wrapped all around his head. He appeared serene in his slumber, and were it any other circumstance, Ryan would have been happy to see his boyfriend in this state of bliss.

Ryan approached Troy's bedside to place the flowers he had brought on the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lucille demanded.

"I was just going to put these flowers by his bed," was Ryan's response.

"You can't -…" the Bolton argued, but her husband interjected.

"That is fine, Ryan," Jack allowed.

Lucille Bolton resigned to the fact that she would now have to share her son with the boy she hated so.

Hospitals have always been a shared space. Even when a patient manages to get a single room, they will always have company in the form of a relative or loved one, or a nurse, or even a doctor. Nothing ever belongs to a single person in a hospital. In the already crowded halls, there is never any room for possession. Hospitals have never really been a good place.

**--XxXxX--**

_**To Be Continued…**_

* * *

_I know a lot of you were expecting the "batter" to be a canon character, one of the main cast. I will give you this. It is not Blake._

_In Lockdown, many of the flashbacks were to earlier chapters. Here, they will mostly be on the three months between Lockdown and the Epilogue._

_Future chapters will touch more on the Bolton's and the Evan's views on their sons' relationship as well as more on the original characters I have introduced. As a hint, EVERY first name in this chapter belongs to a major character. _

_**DISCLAIMER:**_

_**This story is based on characters created by PETER BARSOCCHINI and may make reference to events and ideas in the two DISNEY movies, High School Musical and High School Musical 2, both written by PETER BARSOCCHINI. I make no money from writing this story and do it with no commercial intent.**_

_**This story includes lyrics from various songs by S CLUB 7, NICKELBACK, JESSE McCARTNEY, THE SPILL CANVAS, SIMPLE PLAN, and others. The lyrics remain the property of their respective artists and I make no claim on them, nor do I use them with any commercial intent.**_


	2. Territories

_Hey everyone! Guess who's back? I have been working on this in the whole nine months I have not updated. It is one of the more boring chapters but a necessary one. I had trouble finding where to begin the chapter for it to have the correct emotional impact I wanted. I actually have four different beginnings to this chapter, four different drafts that finally produced this piece. I do not know how long chapter three will take me to produce, but I really pushed this one out so I could give you guys an early Christmas present. I have experimented a little with writing style which you will see further down._

_I have finally seen HSM3. I actually saw it two days ago. It was alright I guess. It kinda throws my story into the realm of Alternate Universe, but whatever. I will say that my story exists as a post-HSM2 piece with little to no reference to the continuation of the saga. I was disappointed that there was essentially no Tryan at all in that film, though now that I think of it, there wasn't any Tryan in any of the films. I could see the Troy/Jimmy pairing though, but I will not be touching that at all. My favorite song would have to be "Scream" especially since the lead up to the song showed Zac Efron's beautifully bronzed back. That was hot!_

_This is the unedited version. I will warn you now that my spacebar broke. I have not had this beta'd yet. I did not want to disturb the beta of my first chapter in case he was busy with something. I will post an edited version once it has been beta'd. My tense changes would probably be horrendous._

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**Stagnant Chaos by Tertiary Genesis**

Chapter 2: **Territories**

**------------XxXxX------------**

Territoriality is a universal quality. All creatures develop a sense of territory. Most animals would designate their territory using sensory markers so that when another animal smells, sees or hears that they are in another's territory, they have the option to back off. People have more than just physical territories marked by fences and boundaries on maps. We have emotional territory in which others invariably encroach upon and we do our best to maintain our possession. Humans are selfish creatures. We strive to keep that which we have for as long as we can, but sometimes, we just have to share, and allow others into our territory.

Lucille Bolton displayed a typical example of territoriality, prevailing in attaining the tuner of the Bolton family car radio. This was just another of the small battles she had been winning against her husband. She knew he was letting her win, because ultimately, she had lost the war and the evidence of this defeat was all around her.

As the station of her choosing played the light melody of Brooke Fraser's _Arithmetic_, Lucille allowed her gaze to wander across to the suburban scenes rushing by outside the passenger window. It was an early mid-December morning and through the slightly foggy passenger-side window, she witnessed houses coming to life. There were occupants throwing open their curtains to allow the warming dawn light reflecting off their frost covered lawns into their houses.

"_**I've been staring at the sky tonight, marveling and passing time; wondering what to do with daylight, until I can make you mine. You are the one I want; you are the one I want."**_

The female Bolton felt tired and stressed. It had been a very trying couple of days since Troy's incident. The long hours in the hospital gave her time to reflect on her relationship with her son. It had been a long time since she was a major influence in her son's life. She reflected upon the days during her boy's childhood, when he would run to her after grazing his knee on his skateboard. There was a time when he loved to cuddle up with his mother, just content to be in her lap, or close to her heart. Lucille remembered those days with a distinct fondness and succumbed to the common parental notion of not wanting their kids to grow up.

After a turn or two, the glare of the Albuquerque sun found itself directly in front of the Bolton car. Jack Bolton was quick to act and lowered his shade but Lucille did not mirror this action. She allowed the light to wash over her, entering her eyes in a sudden burst of light causing her to close her eyes automatically, seeing green and purple shapes dance in front of the red of the sun penetrating her eyelids. She thought she saw Troy among these shapes compelling her to open up her eyes, only to shut them again and repeat the process.

"_**I've been thinking of changing my mind, it never stays the same for long; but of all the things I know for sure, you're the only certain one. You are the one I want; you are the one I want**__**."**_

Troy had long since stopped being a mommy's boy, and became a lot more attached to his father. Lucille knew the change made sense. Troy and his father had many more things in common, including their love of basketball as well as their very genders. Lucille could not help but feel pushed to the side, an after thought in the minds of the males in her nuclear family. She had felt somewhat neglected within the family unit.

Even in this neglect, Lucille remembered persevering and trying to maintain a relationship with her son. His father could never replace her hugs as the greatest source of warmth and love in his life. It was after this small triumph in re-entering her son's life that another man came in and took what she worked long and hard to attain. Ryan just waltzed into Troy's life and took his place as that greatest source of warmth and love. There were times when Lucille thought that her love as a mother was in no way strong enough to compete with that of her son's lover. She had felt inadequate in her maternal role.

"_**I've been counting up all my wrongs, one sorry for each star. See, I'd apologize my way to you, if the heavens stretched that far. Coz you are the one I want; you are the one I want."**_

Lucille was not a homophobic person. Although she grew up in a Catholic family, and still attended mass on special occasions, she had learned to accept that there were "those kinds of people" in the world; especially since her own son had joined them. She had learned to accept Troy for what he was, and had nothing against his sexual orientation, just that it turned him into a target. She was a mother, and she instinctually feared for her son, when she discovered his "alternate sexuality". She did not have anything against Ryan as a person, she thought he was quite the gentleman, but she did blame him for turning her son into a target for those who do not accept deviance.

"_**I won't find what I am looking for, if I only see by keeping score, 'cause I know now you are so much more than arithmetic. 'Cause if I add if I subtract, if I give it all, try to take some back, I've forgotten the freedom that comes from the fact that you are the son, so you are the one, I want."**_

She had never called someone a "faggot" before. It was a very new experience for her. She had never intended to use such an epithet to describe anyone, but the words had escaped her mouth before she could catch them. In her fear and desperation, she chose to take out her anger on the boy who had done so much against her, despite whether he did it intentionally or not. She wanted to hurt Ryan so badly for taking her son.

As the Bolton's continued travelling towards their new temporary housing, Lucille began to regret releasing her emotions onto the boy. She was jealous and scared, and despite that, Ryan still kept his cool, and showed respect towards her and her wishes, as well as offering to house them until they could sort things out. She knew she had to apologize, but she was not sure whether she could get over her pride and actually do it.

"_**When the years are showing on my face and my strongest days are gone, when my heart and flesh depart this place, from a life that sung your song. You'll still be the one I want, you'll still be the one I want, you'll still be the one I want…"**_

The pair arrived at their destination and saw how the other half lived. The experience was thoroughly humbling for the two, especially for Lucille, who knew that she would need all the humility she could get to apologize to her son's boyfriend.

"_**You'll still be the one I want."**_

**--XxXxX--**

"No, I want that put into storage. We don't need those to be up until Christmas Day."

The Boltons walked into a cacophony of Christmas candles, as a porter tripped on a marble step and fell to the ground, sending out a mass of purple wax rods to roll unattended across the floor of the entrance hall. The brunette couple stared in shock and awe at the busy occurrences within the Evans household. They were even more shocked when Mrs. Evans, who appeared to be coordinating the mammoth effort of "decking the halls", pointed at them and screeched.

"Why are you two not picking those up? You are not being paid to lollygag while there is work to be done!"

The brunette couple standing at the head of the entrance hall stood aghast. Had they really just been ordered to bend down and pick up the fleeing purple candles as if they were hired help?

"Are you talking to us?" Jack inquired, letting a pointed index finger wave between him and his wife.

Mrs. Evans' eyes grew wide as she recognized the newcomers. "So sorry, I thought you were among the help. Things are getting a little crazy around here. I'll get someone to show you to your room and help you with your bags." The blonde performed a quick reconnoiter, searching for a free hand the could sacrifice to the Bolton cause. It was then that she spotted her own son peering over the balcony in a bemused state, watching the various people pursuing the ever-elusive violet candles still evading capture by unintentionally employing the barrel-roll technique.

"Ryan!" called Mrs. Evans in much the same tone one would shout, "Eureka!"

Lucille tensed at the mention of the boy. She followed the gaze of the mother before her and saw Ryan slowly moving toward them. Lucille thought around for a quick escape. Having found none, she resigned to clamping her mouth shut and averting her gaze in an attempt to avoid confrontation.

Ryan arrived at the floor of the atrium and was asked by his mother to escort the Boltons to their room. The Boltons appeared to be travelling light and so it did not seem necessary to call upon a bellhop. Ryan regarded the Boltons momentarily, as if mentally scanning them for weapons they may use against him, before leading them up the stairs to their room.

The trio walked silently for a short while, trudging carefully along one of the upper walkways of the atrium hall, each making sure to lift their feet so as not to make noise on the clean carpet.

Once they were away from the cacophony of the atrium, and could no longer hear the orders of Mrs. Evans, Ryan mustered the courage to attempt small talk. "So, how is Troy doing?" he asks tentatively.

Mrs. Bolton continues to clamp her mouth shut and keeps her focus upon the gilding on the walls, away from Ryan.

Mr. Bolton looks over to his wife, attempting to procure a reaction before letting out a sigh. "Just please lead us to our room."

"Okay," Ryan reluctantly concedes.

They walk on a little longer in silence, taking a few turns before Ryan stops. He turns around to face the Boltons, seeming quite confronting, but neither his stance, nor his facial expression supports this intention.

"Can you at least tell me when he wakes up?" Ryan asks sincerely, attempting to come to a compromise.

Jack considers this and was about to acquiesce when his spouse finally speaks up.

"Why should we?" she asks rather menacingly.

"Because he is my boyfriend," Ryan attempts to reason, but was cut off.

"He was Gabriella's boyfriend, and she never got him bashed," Lucille argued.

"I did not get him bashed!" Ryan retorted.

"Yes, you did. You and your queer lifestyle," countered Lucille.

"Why would _I_ get him bashed? I love him!" Ryan pled.

"No you don't, I do!" Lucille vindicated, the words escaping her mouth before she could stop them. Ryan somehow caused her to lose control.

Ryan stood aghast, unable to come up with a suitable reply to such an accusation. He could not rebuke her argument and attempt to deny a mother's love for her son, but neither could he plead his love for her son without turning the argument into an elementary school tiff.

Lucille stared at the boy in a huff, still trying to catch her breath after that declaration escaped her. Part of her was thinking, _HA! He is not denying it,_ while another part was thinking, _oh no, have I gone too far?_ Lucille felt at odds with herself. An internal conflict raged within her where lines were drawn and crossed. What was the correct way to love her son?

Jack Bolton sensed there to be enough tension to break him into the confrontation. As the Conflict Theory of social change suggests, the conflicting personal interests of various parties clash and produce chaos, which escalates to a point where revolution occurs. Jack found this conflict to be at a perceptively resolved impasse, at least for this specific small battle, one among many in the long war to come. He saw it as a safe opportunity to move on, letting the combatants once again wordlessly call a ceasefire, so that they may treat their wounded and collect their dead.

"Can you just show us to our room, Ryan?" Jack asked in a monotonous tone.

Ryan looked up, startled by the sound of the voice of the older man. He quickly looked around; getting his bearings, then turned a knob directly beside him. "This is it," Ryan announced before promptly walking away.

The Boltons moved into their new "home", planning to spend as little time as possible in it, in favor of Troy's hospital room.

**--XxXxX--**

"NO!" the exclamation resounded throughout the atrium from which the sound originated.

Ryan Evans and Lucille Bolton were once again butting heads, arguing over something or other in a symbolic tug-o-war over Troy. They were never really fighting over the superficial thing the argument starts over, like being in each other's way or missing items, but really over Troy, which usually becomes apparent when a non sequitur slip of the tongue occurs.

"Those pillows don't even belong to you!" Ryan volleyed back, defending himself against the accusation thrown at him.

"He does belong to me. He is _my_ son, he is not yours!" Lucille sent back.

Ryan, who stood a fair distance away on the other side of the atrium, stopped himself before delivering his counter, having to process exactly what the woman had said.

The realization of what she had just said dawned on Lucille a moment later, and the two warring factions were cast into a stunned armistice.

Vance Evans appeared upon the battlefield standing in the centre of the atrium, in no man's land, equidistant from the trenches of both sides. Sharpay and Jack soon joined him, and they separated the two, removing them from the field of battle by dragging them off to different rooms on opposite sides of the atrium.

Inside a study room that came off the atrium floor, Vance and Jack managed to placate a fuming Lucille and placed her in a suede Barcelona chair, a seat in which she did not stay for long.

Mrs. Bolton jumped up and pointed an accusatory finger toward the Evans present. Her vendetta appeared not only targeted at a boy, but his family too.

"This is _your_ fault. You raised a son that has effectively killed mine. You and your son should burn in hell!" she impeached.

Vance Evans has learnt to keep his cool in trying situations, needing such a skill in the corporate world he lived in, but the accusations of the woman before him was the final straw. He has had to watch his family take such verbal abuse from the woman for the past few days and felt his generosity begin to waver.

"Now see here, this is _my_ house, and you are living under _my_ roof. The only reason you are living here and not out on the streets is because of my son," Vance affirmed.

Lucille fell silent, shocked that the man knew of her family's condition. It was a shame they had been trying to hide since it all began.

Vance seemed to read into her stunned silence because he said, "Yes I know of your financial situation. Even if it weren't for the fact that you are living in my house instead of in your own home, which I assume has been sold, Ryan has been telling me of your circumstance before hand."

Lucille made an infuriated mental note of this fact, giving her more fuel to hate the blond boy she appeared to loath so, but maintained her peace.

"It really is an unfortunate series of events that has ultimately lead to the bankruptcy of your family, but Ryan has convinced me to allow your family into my home, so I will not be talked to like that by you."

Taken aback, Lucille slowly slid back into the seat, her husband sidled up behind her as Vance continued to lay down the law.

"It is not actually me who has been paying for your Troy's hospital expenses, but my wife, who has a soft spot for the boys' relationship. I would like to correct an earlier assumption you have made about me. I am _not_ happy about Ryan's sexual orientation, contrary to your beliefs. I had my own dreams for him too and I never wanted him to be like this. When he told me he was dating your son, I felt all those dreams slip away.

"I believe we have the same goals. I do not want the boys together either. We must face this issue together.

The Boltons listened intently as Vance proposed a scheme to break the boys apart. He had offered to buy back their house in exchange for their cooperation in the plot. The Boltons knew tat this plan would alleviate their fears, but was it right?

"Are we in agreement?" Vance asked, treating this method as if it were a business deal. It allowed him to emotionally detach from the plan, and just execute without remorse.

The Boltons nodded.

"Good," Vance said, feeling a similar relief as to that which comes after a major merger deal being signed. "I trust there will be no more altercations like this in the future. Let us try to remain civil."

**--XxXxX--**

Sharpay dragged her brother up the stairs leading away from the atrium and into the first room on the left, immediately regretting her brash action when she realized what room it was.

Ryan stumbled into the room and immediately placed himself in front of the mirror he noticed in the room without looking around to see what room it was. Mirrors were part of Ryan's coping mechanism when it came to any form of extreme emotion. He would look at himself in the mirror when he was euphoric in an attempt to calm himself down, he would look in the mirror when he was angry, metaphorically letting it out on himself so as not to hurt others. He looked in the mirror, searching himself for answers.

He looked at himself in the mirror. There was Ryan Evans looking back at him. He looked terrible. His hair was a mess. He had lines running across his face going unchecked. He needed to shave; some light stubble was beginning to show through. He had large bags under his eyes that did not appear to want to disappear.

_What is happening to me?_

Ryan let out a huff, turned and slid down the wall to slump on the ground. It was then that _he_ noticed what room it was.

It was Troy's room. After Ryan's father knew of their relationship, the Evans had given Troy a room of his own, one among the many within the Evans household, for Troy to use should he be "sleeping over" as was happening with increased frequency the weeks before Ryan's revelation to his father.

Troy had relocated many of his possessions to this room prior to movie out of the house. When the Boltons were forced to give up their home and rent a cheap flat, Troy managed to save the majority of his paraphernalia by placing it in the room the Evan's had offered him. Now the room was filled with not only basketball posters and wildcat jerseys, but also countless photographs of Ryan and Troy, capturing various moments from the three months past.

Looking around the room, Ryan was bombarded with the memories of the various photographed situations that surrounded him, which only caused him to breakdown, falling upon the floor beside the wall he was slumped against, with tears pouring out of his eyes.

"He wasn't supposed to leave!" Ryan wailed, "He was supposed to stay! He is supposed to be here with me! He promised… he promised… he promised…"

Sharpay ran over to her brother, picked him up and held him tight. She has never really loved a person as much as Ryan loved Troy, but she knew he must have been in so much pain.

"He promised he wouldn't leave me! He is supposed to be here!" Ryan sobbed.

Sharpay just held him tighter, trying to reassure him that _she_ would not leave him, that she would not let go. She herself was almost in tears too, her heart breaking for her brother's broken state.

It took some time but Ryan's sobbing began to subside as he calmed himself down. Composure and self-control is the mark of a great performer.

Ryan picked himself up, slipping out of his sister's firm grip. He approached one of his favorite shelves in Troy's room. It housed the set of photographs taken on their first month anniversary when Troy had taken Ryan to a carnival that was in Albuquerque at the time.

One of the photographs showed Troy and Ryan standing side by side in front of the merry-go-round. Ryan was holding the camera at arms length away, whilst Troy has snaked his arm around the blonde boy's waist. The image was mostly blurred, due to the light motion blurs of the rotating ride behind them, and Troy's apparent inability to keep still when with his man, but it was still a cute picture and remained Ryan's favorite.

"Ryan," Sharpay began, watching as her brother returned the cherished photo frame on the shelf. "Would you like to go down to the hospital to see him?"

Even since the Boltons had moved in and technically Ryan had "permission" to see his boyfriend at the hospital, he has yet to see him since that night he found the Boltons there and offered them a place to stay. One would expect Ryan to be at his boyfriend's bedside constantly from the start to the end of visiting hours daily. This was not the case.

"No," was Ryan's simple reply. He gave this reply every time after Sharpay had asked this question.

Sharpay was not going to take this answer anymore. She inquired further, determined to find the underlying cause of this.

"Don't you want t be with him?" she asked intending to goad him into submission.

Ryan paused before replying. "What if I don't?" he challenged.

Sharpay was shocked by this response. "What?! What are you talking about? Of course you do, you're really in love with him," Sharpay stated as if pointing out the obvious.

"Things would be so much better if I wasn't," Ryan calmly stated, indicating to Sharpay that he has already given this a lot of thought. "Troy would not be a target, his parents would not hate me, our dad wouldn't hate me…" Ryan began to pace.

Sharpay was stunned by these revelations. She remained silent as her brother continued.

"Sometimes I think everything would be better if I were straight," Ryan announced.

Sharpay raised her eyebrows in skepticism, a gesture that was noticed by the boy.

"I'm serious. Dad would be happy, Troy's parents would be happy and I won't have to keep wondering when the homophobes decide to come for me," Ryan reasoned.

"But what about Troy? He won't be happy," Sharpay commented.

"Troy was quite happy before I came in and ruined his life. If it weren't for me, he would still be happy in his heterosexual relationship with Gabriella. He would still be straight. He would still be okay…" Ryan gave a sob as he was reminded of the situation in which he had placed Troy.

Sharpay pulled her brother from his pacing, getting him to sit beside her on the bed in the middle of the room.

"So when Troy wakes up, you're just going to break up with him, find a girl and live the perfect vanilla life, hoping Troy does the same?"

"_If_ Troy wakes up…" Ryan corrected.

"He _will_ wake up, and you should stop thinking like that. You two are so in love, it does not matter what anyone else thinks. You should go see him. Be the one at his bedside when he wakes up. It will be worth it."

**--XxXxX--**

… … …

_**Mr. and Mrs. Bolton, I am Senior Officer Peters. You asked for updates on our investigation. Would you like to hear it?**_

_Yes, please._

_**I am sorry to inform you that we have had to release Blake Rucan from our custody.**_

_What?! Why?_

_**We have found the owner of the implement used against your son to be Chad Danforth.**_

_Chad? No, it can't have been him._

_**We know. There is an entire classroom full of witnesses who can attest to Chad's whereabouts at the time of the incident. He was locked inside the music room when the Lockdown occurred.**_

_So then why have you released Blake? He obviously stole Chad's bat._

_**We have no forensic evidence to suggest that Blake has even touched the bat. The evidence we have against him is purely circumstantial. He claims that he merely stumbled upon the scene after the unsub took off.**_

_But what about those homophobic remarks he was making. He said Troy deserved what he got._

_**He may have been an accomplice but he was not the one who swung the bat. Either way, we have nothing on him to continue detaining him.**_

_How do you know Blake didn't swing the bat?_

_**We did not find any forensic evidence from him on the bat. Aside from Troy's blood, there was one set of fingerprints on the bat and a few epithelial cells that must have come off the unsub's hands. We have already run a DNA analysis and found the cells to be from a female.**_

_What if he was wearing gloves?_

_**That is one of the first things we check for. There were no indicators that Blake was wearing gloves, nor were there any disposed anywhere near the crime scene.**_

_So it was a girl that did this to Troy?_

_**Yes.**_

**--XxXxX--**

Troy's hospital room appeared as it had previously. White wash walls, blue linoleum floor and a bandaged boy lying in a bed surrounded by and hooked up to a series of beeping machines.

It was the first time Ryan had gone to see his boyfriend in several days. He had brought with him a fresh bouquet of peonies in an attempt to brighten up what he knew would be quite a drab room.

Ryan found himself alone in the room with Troy, something that would have been highly unlikely since the Boltons were a constant presence in the room during the entirety of hospital visiting hours.

"Hi," Ryan began tentatively. He was beginning to regret following his sister's suggestion of talking things out with his boyfriend. What was he supposed to say to a comatose patient and what was the point if he was not going to get a response?

_This is so stupid_, Ryan admitted to himself. He looked at Troy again. Only a section of Troy's face was visible, not covered up by layers of bandages. He rather looked like a disfigured phantom of the opera with bandages, or maybe half a mummy, Ryan thought.

As Ryan continued to ponder upon the various characters his boyfriend reminded him of, Troy let out a particularly lengthy breath. Ryan's heart beat quickened. Could Troy be waking up? Ryan held his breath, waiting and watching to see if Troy woke up.

…

Ryan finally let out the breath he had been holding before he turned blue. No, Troy was not waking up that day. It was probably still a long time until Troy would be waking up. Ryan let out a sign. A tear, long suppressed, rolled down his face. He wiped it away, not wanting to show weakness in front of his boyfriend in need, though it was an arbitrary attempt. He pulled out the miniature iPod sound-system he had put in his bag.

"I knew I probably wouldn't be able to just talk to you like Sharpay said I should," Ryan said, "so I decided to bring some music instead." He set up the sound-system on Troy's side table, found the song he wanted and pressed play.

As the drumbeat of the song began to sound, Ryan leant back in his seat beside Troy's bed. The song he had picked seemed quite appropriate.

"_**You're the whisper of a summer breeze; you're the kiss that puts my soul at ease…"**_

Ryan would not say that this was "their song" but it was a song that marked one of the more memorable moments in their relationship.

**--**

_It was about two weeks into their relationship. They had agreed that they would not be hiding their relationship, but they seemed also to be operating under a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. If someone had asked them directly, they would not lie, but they were not exactly announcing it to the world either._

_Very few people had actually known about them at that point. It was only Sharpay, Gabriella, Chad, Jason and Kelsi, as well as Troy's parents. The rest of the school body, as well as both of Ryan's parents, were still oblivious to the pairing._

_As such, the boys showed little to no public displays of affection. Covert dates in the form of movies, park strolls, and "study sessions" were about all they had done._

_Troy took the next step and took Ryan out to dinner. It was not a major fancy restaurant or anything. It was more of a quaint, out of the way, family restaurant on the edge of Albuquerque. It was one of those places with white lattice partitions covered in plastic grape vines and fairy lights with lanterns hanging about the place. _

_They had eaten a fine meal, whilst elderly couples danced on a raised platform used as a dance floor. The music playing came from the early nineties; mellow slow jams to create a smooth swaying rhythm._

_When Paula Abdul's "Rush, Rush" came on, Troy invited Ryan up for a dance. Ryan was quite reluctant, not used to doing such things with Troy out where other people could see them. Many things flashed through Ryan's mind. What would people think? What if someone recognized them? He looked up at Troy and could not turn him down. He got up and walked with Troy to the dance floor._

**--**

"_**Rush, rush, hurry, hurry lover come to me; rush, rush, I wanna see you, I wanna see you get free with me. Rush, rush, I can feel it, I can feel you all through me; rush, rush, ooh, what you do to me…"**_

Ryan wished he could ask Troy to do just that.

"_**Hurry, hurry lover, come to me…"**_

The door of the hospital room opened, and Lucille Bolton stood in the doorway. She did not appear mad at seeing Ryan in the room, just somewhat surprised.

The two remained still and silent, not wanting to get into another confrontation, especially in front of Troy.

Alexis entered the room, breaking the mounting tension, and went about her duties checking the machines, fixing the sheets and changing the towels and such in the bathroom. She stood in between Ryan and Lucille at the end of her duties and silently motioned Ryan to leave with her.

Ryan knew he should leave the two Boltons alone together, so he agreed and followed her out.

Lucille allowed the music to continue playing as she took her regular spot beside her boy's bed. Listening to the music, she realized how much Troy meant to Ryan, and knew that she may finally have to concede.

"He's good for you…" she whispered to Troy before taking his hand and holding it tight.

The armistice, the ceasefire, the temporary reprieve we all wait for in every confrontation, shows our desire for peace amidst our territoriality. People are social creatures, who eventually learn to share. No longer does anything have a sole possessor.

**--XxXxX--**

**_To Be Continued…_**

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_What to look forward to in Chapter 3: Supporters. There's something about Alexis, accusations, shopping and somebody wakes up. Chapter 2 was orginially longer but I split it into chapter 2 and 3... three appears to be a little shorter._

_If anyone wants to beta, email me and I can send you the original doc file to tear apart. Reviews are golden, I know there are a lot of you who have alerted this story, but I also realize the Tryan pairing is dying._

_I am not one to give challenges but I have been thinking of doing an "in-Betweequel" where I have a story showcasing the missing three months between Lockdown and its epilogue. It would mostly be a series of cute one-shot dates, with a few over-arching themes explaining what happened with the Bolton financial situation, Ryan's parents, etc. It all actually has a back-story that is all in my head. The challenge is, if you choose to accept it, for you guys to come up with cute one-shot date ideas I can string together to form the story. All I have so far is to expand the flashbacks that I have already mentioned in this story. Tell me what you all think. My email is on my profile._

_On another note, I have fallen in love with Nick Jonas. Don't ask me how it happened, just know that it has and may be one of the distracting factors that has lead to my lack of updates. We shall see what the future brings._

_**This chapter included **__**the lyrics of Brooke Fraser's song "Arithmetic" from**__**her album "What To Do With Daylight". This song was written by BROOKE FRASER and **__**remains her property.**__**I use it with no commercial intent.**_

_**This chapter included **__**the lyrics of Paula Abdul's song "Rush Rush," from**__**her album "Spellbound". This song was written by PETER LORD and **__**remains his property. **__**I use it with no commercial intent.**_


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